Shifting into tomorrow,
today passing through the exhaust
The RPM’s marking time and space
—direction all but lost
(Dreamsleep: February, 2021)
Until
Time is a drug,
both good and bad
Infecting and curing,
the happy sad
Time is a stipend,
to cash at will
Its fund ever spending
—to last until
(The New Room: February, 2021)
Touched By A Demon
Dancing with the devil.
we waltzed across the floor
Past the spot the band was playing,
through the open door
The darkness called to him by name,
he answered with a smile
And looked at me and said: “This way,
damnations forked turnstile”
With one step back, I bid him true,
to leave me on my way
The voices growing louder still,
of those past gone astray
He stopped and said: “You now must jump,
this ledge all sinner’s pass”
And pointed down to the abyss,
the inferno’s deep morass
He looked away, his head was down,
while shouting dark and vile
A chant so foul, demonic born,
my soul at once beguiled
Before he stopped, I took both hands,
and pushed him from behind
And watched him fall into the void,
among his liken kind
Then walking back toward the dance,
I heard the music play
His words to music ringing out,
my spirit disarrayed
Once back inside I looked around,
and watched the dancers flee
And knew at once the way they ran
—that devil now was me
(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)